


Draped in White

by ashes0909, NEVP97



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ballet, Fluff, Lingerie, M/M, Presents, Smut, White Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NEVP97/pseuds/NEVP97
Summary: This was the first White Day Viktor would be celebrating with Yuuri, and it was the first year he'd even learned about the holiday. But now that he had, he couldn't stop imagining Yuuri dressed in white.





	Draped in White

**Author's Note:**

> Our prompts are: Lingerie/White day; Person A gets Person B white lingerie for White Day/PWP (NSFW)

**Viktor**

Russia was cold in late February, but that didn’t stop Viktor. Every storefront was still decorated with pink hearts and signs displaying discounts and sales. Viktor passed by them all, wandering deeper into the market. What he wanted wasn’t pink or frilly, and it definitely wouldn’t be on sale. He was on a mission.

This was the first White Day Viktor would be celebrating with Yuuri, and it was the first year he'd even learned about the holiday. But now that he had, he couldn't stop imagining Yuuri dressed in white. White of a Japanese yukata, white of the ice they skated on, white satin, sheer lace, the stark contrast it would create against Yuuri's soft skin. 

Yuuri looked gorgeous in anything--from his skating sweats to his figure skating costumes. He would look absolutely divine in the lingerie Viktor had in mind. But first he had to find it, and then he had to wrap it up nicely and give it to Yuuri--all without his observant fiancé noticing.

The cashier greeted him as he opened the door, a stylish woman in her mid forties. Viktor grinned, hoping his heart-shaped smile would charm her into the best service. If not that, then possibly some name recognition. "Hello, I'm Viktor Nikiforov, I called earlier about--"

Her eyes widened and she looked more than eager as she walked around the counter. "Yes, yes, of course. I absolutely loved your Olympic skate last year." 

Viktor let her pull his hand into hers, the excitement making her shake it for far too long but Viktor didn't say anything other than, "I had described a few items I was looking for. Were you able to find anything in their liking?"

The woman led Viktor to a table where three items were laid out. There was a sheer white robe with a flower embellishment trim. It was easy to imagine the light fabric falling over Yuuri's shoulder as he rubbed it between his fingers. He knew Yuuri would delight in how soft it was. For underneath the robe, Viktor moved over to the white leather garter. There were delicate metal buckle pressed into the leather, which caught the light, and Viktor's attention, and would fit snugly around Yuuri’s thigh. 

What really took Viktor’s breath away was what would wrap around the rest of Yuuri: white satin and lace underwear. The band was about an inch thick and would stretch around Yuuri's waist. The thong string would slip under him and press up between his cheeks. The front was made of satin, the fabric thick enough to cup Yuuri's balls, and in the middle was a tantalizing cut between two sides, held together by a bow that would rest right at the center of Yuuri's low waist. It was easy and distracting, imagining Yuuri's cock filling the satin panties until it hardened all the way. it would peek through the slit, able to jut out proudly for Viktor to touch and tease. 

He imagined Yuuri tying the robe tightly around himself so that Viktor could barely see the treat hidden beneath, and he wanted so badly to unwrap Yuuri from the gift he hadn't even bought yet let alone wrapped in a box for him. 

"I'll take it," he announced to the cashier. He'd forgotten she was even in the store, with how much Yuuri occupied his mind. White Day was only a few days away. Viktor was starting to doubt he'd make it that long. 

**Yuuri**

It was rare occurence, since coming to Russia that Yuuri spent a rest day alone. It was usually when he and Viktor caught up on anime and did the weekly shopping, but he had to admit the silence was pleasant company as well. There were so many things to do before they both flew to Worlds in a couple weeks, but right now, Yuuri wanted to enjoy an afternoon in his and Viktor’s apartment. 

They’d retrofitted the spare room into a ballet studio, the hardwood floors a perfect escape from the rush of day to day life. Yuuri’d been dancing for about twenty minutes--long enough to have warmed, throwing his long sleeve t-shirt into the corner a few grand jetés ago. 

There was a knock behind him and he looked up to see Viktor leaning against the doorframe, watching him with a heated gaze. A white shopping bag with tissue paper coming out the top hung loosely by his side. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Yuuri felt a flush cross his cheeks, looking down at his bare chest then back at Viktor. “You’ve been standing there for a while now, haven’t you?”

Viktor’s heart-shaped smile turned into a devious smirk. “Perhaps.”

To completely ignore the way the single word made butterflies come to life in Yuuri’s stomach, he focused instead on the bag by Viktor's hand. It was sleek and shiny with a satin ribbon handle. "What's that?" 

It was Viktor's turn to blush, and he tried to hide the bag behind his legs. The action only piqued Yuuri's interest even more. "Nothing. Nothing!"

"That doesn't quite sound like, 'nothing'." Yuuri slid his ballet slippers across the smooth wooden floor as he moved his way towards Viktor. Viktor--who Yuuri knew always loved to see him dance--dropped his gaze to Yuuri's hips, then down the curve of his legs. "That sounds like maybe something," he whispered, and Viktor’s eyes snapped back to his.

"Well, you know how Valentine's day passed--"

"And we went to see the ballet that was in town,” Yuuri continued. “It was lovely." 

"Yes--"

"And then we ate so much we collapsed on the couch until Makka was licking us awake in the morning--"

"Exactly. So--"

“And--”

"I learned about White Day," Viktor blurted out."When I was in Hatseau, I mean." 

"White Day? Do you mean...Is that…?" Yuuri gestured to the bag. "For me?" Yuuri had never given or received a White Day gift before. Here Viktor was, surprising him like always.

Viktor nodded, handing out the bag to Yuuri. "I want you to open it now. Even though we're a week away, I can't wait anymore, Yuuri."

"How long have you been waiting?"

"Three whole hours!"

Yuuri chuckled, shaking his head at his ridiculous financé. "You put forth a valiant effort," Yuuri assured him as he reached for the bag. "I'll reward your efforts by opening this...now?"

Viktor clapped his hands together. "Yuuri! So good to me."

"You bought  _ me  _ a gift. You're the one that's good to me."

"If you say so! Now, open, Yuuri."

Yuuri slipped his hand into the bag, the tissue paper tickling his palm until his fingers hit a soft material that flowed like silk through his fingers. He pulled it out and saw the white sheer robe and a satin thong, under both of them lay a leather garter.

“Wow,” he said, slipping the fabric through his fingers. When he looked up to meet Viktor’s gaze, his pupils had overtaken the blue of his eyes. Viktor was imagining him in the lingerie, Yuuri realized, right now, and it made Yuuri picture it. How he would be able to captivate Viktor, claim his thoughts, fulfill his fantasies, just with a scrap of white leather and mesh robe. How he was already distracting the man, just by rubbing the garment between his fingers. Yuuri bit his lip between his teeth. He wanted more.

Grabbing the bag from Viktor’s hand, Yuuri sent Viktor a smirk and danced out the door towards their bedroom. “Join me in five minutes,” he told him over his shoulder, before slipping inside. 

**Viktor**

Viktor waited, shifting his weight. Fidgeting in a room where only a ballet barre and a mirror existed was a hard feat but Viktor managed it. His mind wanted to start counting the seconds to five minutes, but he knew that would only make the time seem longer. 

On the other side of the door, Yuuri was naked, or nearly there, stripping himself of the tight ballet pants and t-shirt he’d been wearing. His hair would already be tousled, and just a slab of wood separated him from where Yuuri was sliding on the white leather thong, wrapping the leather garter around the delicate strength of his thigh, buckling it into place, and Viktor wanted to run his hand against it, feel where it pressed against Yuuri's smooth skin. He wanted to run his hands up Yuuri's bare thighs, wanted nothing between him and Yuuri's cock except for the lingerie he selected, just for Yuuri.

Five minutes had to be up by now, and if it wasn't, well, Viktor wasn't going to be upset about getting a behind the scenes look at his own private lingerie fashion show. A few short steps and Viktor was across the hall, and the next thing he saw was Yuuri. 

It was as if Yuuri knew Viktor was about to barge through the door. Naked, with only the thong and the garter and the wisp of sheer fabric, just like he'd imagined. His profile was facing Viktor, and Yuuri--who had just been straightening the robe onto his shoulder--looked like he was posing just for Viktor. He was a vision in white, the light of the bedside lamp reflecting against their purple bed sheets, and it set Yuuri aglow, stark white against the dark backdrop. His leg was cocked out, so Viktor could see the garter, the buckle facing him, as if taunting him to come closer, to take it off, to rub his hands along the muscle that had, just recently, been carrying Yuuri across the dance floor. "Yuuri," Viktor whispered, imagining running his hands over Yuuri's back, the mesh between them causing goosebumps to cascade across Yuuri's skin. Yet he was also frozen in place, frozen in time, by the look in Yuuri's eyes.

His Yuuri, who had been so timid when they first met, so insecure, was now looking at him dead in the eye from over his shoulder, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that if Yuuri said "jump" Viktor would ask, "how high?"--But he didn't look like he was going to say "jump", if anything it looked like he was more likely to say, "kneel", and the thought made a moan slip past Viktor's lips. 

"You're early." Yuuri turned to face him, and he was able to see the thong clearer. It was obvious that Yuuri was enjoying this just as much as Viktor, but his cock stayed nestled behind the satin, not yet poking through the slit that cut in the center of the fabric. "But I have to say, I love my present, Vitya."

Viktor felt his face flush. "Yeah? You look beautiful in it. Better than I ever imagined."

"Oh?" Yuuri bit his lip, smirking from behind it in a way that always drove Viktor crazy. "Did you imagine it very often?" He tilted his head, speaking again before Viktor could even begin to form a reply. "I imagine you must, you did buy it for me after all." 

Then Yuuri was turning, slowly, and Viktor stopped breathing as his eye flew to the strap, where it disappeared from between his gorgeous, beautiful, blessed-from-heaven, plumper-than-a-cloud, asschecks. Yuuri  _ knew  _ he had him wrapped around his finger, must have known just from the expression that had to be on Viktor’s face. He knew there wasn't drool, but it was only because he was trying, hard, to appear like he knew that this would happen, that he would buy Yuuri lingerie and Yuuri would, in turn, make his mind spin off of its axis. 

"I was dancing before," he said, pointing his toe out and bringing the leg with the garter teasing Viktor, into a passé position. "Should I continue?" He propelled himself up into a point, his thigh muscles dancing under the leather garter as he turned delicately. 

"Yuuri, you're too much. Too beautiful." 

He dropped from the pointe. "You're one to talk," he said reaching out a hand for Viktor. "Come here."

**Yuuri**

Yuuri watched Viktor break. From one second to a next, he was on Yuuri. It felt like his hands were everywhere, rubbing the mesh robe against his back, running fingers along his satin and lace covered cock, coming around and grabbing a palmful of his asscheek. Yuuri knew that Viktor would react well to the getup--he had hand picked it after all--but he hadn’t expected this level of enthusiasm. Viktor’s eagerness tipped them back onto the sheets, Yuuri sprawled half on Viktor’s chest and half on the bed. 

Under him, Viktor was fully dressed but it didn’t seem to matter much to him, in fact, nothing seemed to matter to him that wasn’t Yuuri--and that did something to Yuuri, made him push Viktor onto the mattress and straddle his thighs, let him see how pretty the mesh robe he bought was when Yuuri pulled it open, let it frame his bare chest and hard cock. He started to grind, a soft, slow, but thorough drag along Viktor’s loose skate pants. 

Viktor threw his head back and moaned, baring the long tendons of his neck. Yuuri had been obsessed with the man beneath him for most of his life, his spins, jumps, step sequences. The way he always had the perfect thing to say in front of the press--as opposed to Yuuri, who still stammered even now. Yuuri had always admired Viktor Nikiforov, but the man under him, writhing as Yuuri rubbed his hands up and down his shirt covered chest, was debauched and raw and perfect, whimpering when Yuuri ran his finger along his nipple, letting his nail catch against the sensitive nub. 

“Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, starting to unbutton his shirt, and Viktor’s eyes shot opened, hands coming up to rub Yuuri’s thighs, one hand gripping around the garter. The pressure against Yuuri’s thigh didn’t pull or direct Yuuri, but it still made him want to drag their groins together again, so that’s exactly what he did.

The hand not gripping his garter came up to rub the mesh robe above his hip bone. The fabric was soft, but under Viktor’s hands it took on a tantalizing roughness. In reply, Yuuri’s cock twitched in the satin thong, hard enough now that it was teasing against the slit in the front of the fabric, almost pushing through. 

“You look so beautiful, my Yuuri,” Viktor breathed. 

“Yeah?” Yuuri gasped when Viktor’s hand dropped from the robe to come and trace along the white lace and satin thong, finger at the slit. “I like…” Yuuri trailed off, both because of the way Viktor’s finger was focussing on the bulging tip of his cock, but also because he wasn’t quite sure how to voice what he was feeling, all dressed up for Viktor,  _ knowing _ that he was driving the man crazy, fulfilling his fantasy. “I like being beautiful for you, seeing it make you…” He ran his ass over Viktor’s cock this time, letting Viktor’s cock press through his pants and drag along the thin piece of fabric that disappeared between his asscheeks. “Make you like this.”

“Yuuri! Please!”

Heat ran through Yuuri as he watched Viktor plead for more. He felt emboldened, wanting to draw out the moment, savor this gift. So he leaned in close and whispered, “Please what, Vitya? You did this--had me put this on, practically threw me on the bed.” He pulled down Viktor’s pants and boxers in one swift, breath-catching act, then straddled him again. It was hard to remember a time he’d ever been like this for Viktor--but then again, Viktor had been the one to pick out the robe now draped around his shoulders, the wisp of fabric barely keeping his cock in place. “Did you mean to make yourself so needy, Vitya?” It was an honest question, and he didn’t expect Viktor’s reaction: hips lifting from the bed as much as they could with Yuuri on top of him, and a string of Russian that sounded like curses falling from his kiss bruised lips. 

Yuuri chuckled, a short husky sound, before stealing a sweet kiss from Viktor. He felt like eros, dancing on top of Viktor but instead of wearing his skating costume or a banquet suit, he was wearing lingerie handpicked by the man he loved. “I want to--” Yuuri cut himself off, the thought enticing but the words caught in his throat.

“Tell me,” Viktor prompted, the hand that clung to the garter a constant, grounding presence. 

“I want to ride you. While I’m still wearing all of this.” He couldn’t bring himself to look Viktor in the eye as he said it, and Yuuri felt a curl of embarrassment at the base of his spine. But it was quickly chased away when he looked at Viktor and saw his blown-blue eyes, the proof of his eros thrall. Viktor’s cheeks were flushed, his jaw slacked and lips wet from Yuuri’s mouth. Viktor’s cock pressed, warm and insistent, against Yuuri’s thong covered hole. Yuuri continued to grind as he brought a hand up to his lingerie, adjusting it until his cock pushed through the slit in the fabric, hard and needy, jutting between them both. 

It was like Viktor was magnetically drawn to it, his hand coming up immediately to begin thorough strokes. “Vitya,” Yuuri moaned, shifting a bit, trying to stay in control despite how good Viktor’s hand felt. “Need to reach the lube.”

He bent over, and the repositioning made him grind even harder against Viktor’s cock. Viktor’s hips chased the extra friction as Yuuri reached over to the bedside table. As soon as he had the bottle in hand, Yuuri lathered two on his own fingers and then dropped the bottle onto Viktor’s abs. The man hardly reacted, entranced by the sight of Yuuri reaching behind him to pull back the thong and tease his hole with two lube covered fingers. “You like watching me get ready for you, Vitya?”

He nodded, like he couldn’t find the words or care to even look for them, when he could be watching Yuuri finger himself. 

“Are you going to touch me too? You bought this thong. Wanted to feature my cock, maybe? But now you’re not even--” Yuuri gasped when Viktor’s large, perfect hand wrapped around his cock. “Yes! Oh that feels so good.” He lifted a bit, stretching and adding another finger, until he was open and hovering over Viktor. 

“You look better than I--oh, Yuuuuri!” Viktor cut himself off as Yuuri lined up his cock. 

“You make me feel so--” Yuuri began, baring down so the tip of Viktor slid past his hole. “Viktor!” he hissed against the pressure, going slowly as his body gave way to the sensation of Viktor opening him up. “Vitya! I love--” He broke off as he moved, taking him inch by inch. 

“Yes, Yuuri. Look at you. Going to stroke you until you come all over yourself. All over me.”

Yuuri felt his body clench around Viktor’s cock at the image Viktor was creating. A promise that they were running towards with each twist of Viktor’s stroke and glide up and down Viktor’s cock. Yuuri threw his head back, feeling each inch of Viktor, knowing that he must look debauched and needy and so close, and Viktor was under him, lifting his hips to meet every thrust, one hand gripping tight around Yuuri’s cock, the other gripping even tighter against the garter. “I’m close,” Viktor announced, pace never letting up, and Yuuri wanted him to go first, wanted him to fall apart under Yuuri. His eyes were fixed on Yuuri, on his cock jutting out through the lingerie, on the garter, on his mouth, chest, face, mouth--Yuuri bit his lip and moaned his name again, and Viktor was gone, releasing wave after wave of come deep into Yuuri. His hand clenched so tight around Yuuri’s cock that Yuuri followed him over the edge between breaths, decorating Viktor’s chest in come. 

Yuuri felt lightheaded, and after a moment he tipped to the side, coming to lie next to Viktor. He was floating. “I feel like I’m in the clouds.”

Viktor hummed, arms coming up to wrap around Yuuri and pull him close. “Good. Clouds are white.”

Yuuri tried to decipher the post-orgasmic, slurred words of his lover but his own mind was just as hazy. “What?”

“Clouds. More White Day.”

Yuuri snorted, bringing the mesh robe around him to bury his face into the sheer fabric. “Are you trying to say you gave me the clouds as a White Day gift?’

Viktor nodded against his pillow, eyes drooping closed. “Moon too, if you want it.”

“No, thank you,” Yuuri replied, nuzzling his head into the crook of Viktor’s neck. “Have everything I want, right here.” 


End file.
